On the topic of Friendship
by shadowcat238
Summary: That's not true, Rose. he said as he tightened his embrace on her, Everyone deserves a friend.


This is the first fic I've ever written in the season of Operation Overdrive and powerrangerempire has vanished, so I haven't been able to download any episodes lately. Sorry if the plot of this fic seems to not be in synch with the rest of the season.

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**On the topic of Friendship**

Summary: "That's not true, Rose." He whispered as he tightened his arms around her. "Everyone deserves a friend."

Rating: T for cussing and slight violence

Timeline: Sometime prior to 'At All Costs'

Pairing: Andrew/Rose

Note: It is more of a friendship-leaning kind of oneshot, not an actual relationship with romance.

On the side note: I will kindly ask that other fans who do not like this 'pairing' or this oneshot in general, do not flame. No one has forced you to read this and everyone is entitled to their free opinion of what pairings they like, so I ask that you respect my choice. Creative criticism, though, is welcomed.

For the name of Mack's Mother: It hasn't been revealed, as far as I watched, so in the meantime I will call her 'Catharine' (her maiden name is MacAndrew)

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers Operation Overdrive and all that are associated with it.

* * *

It was quiet at the Hartford mansion for once. 

Finally; she could concentrate. Rose lifted up her book and read once again the first interaction between Edmund Dantès and Abbé Faria. But reading had lost its appeal to her today.

Rose glanced at the doorways. No one was around, so…why not?

She put her book away and began to drag her fingers across the thick leather-bound books on the nearest shelf in her reach.

When she pulled out one, she saw that it was a photo album.

Some of them were of Mister Hartford when he was younger—it seems that he really did preserve his looks—while others showed people she didn't know.

As she was flipping through the pages, a portrait-like photograph of a woman fell out between a few pages. Rose leaned down and picked it up; immediately entranced by the person in the picture.

The woman in the photo was very beautiful; long and silky hair the color of auburn-gold, porcelain skin that glowed and accentuated her pale blue almond-shaped eyes, a straight and small nose, bow-shaped lips a soft shade of pink, a softly defined heart-shaped face that many girls could not achieve no matter how many plastic surgeries they had, small and narrow hands with long fingers that were most likely shaped from playing many musical instruments throughout her lifetime, and a slim yet not starved physique. She wore a full length silk gown of silver with the material draped out in a petticoat-like manner from her waist down. Around her neck, there was a small pendant containing an aquamarine gemstone. On the back of the page, the name 'Catharine MacAndrew' was written in dark black calligraphy.

This had to be Mack's mother; where else would Mack have gotten his light looks when his father looked more like a dark-haired version of Indiana Jones?

Pictures have been accused of taking away the radiance of the object in them, and, judging from her school pictures, Rose felt that she could support that claim.

That means, Mack's mother must have been much prettier than when she had this picture taken.

"She must have been radiance personified." Rose murmured; intentionally for herself.

"She was." A voice behind her rang out.

Rose nearly dropped the album in shock and turned around to see Mister Hartford sitting on the couch with his hand over her book.

Immediately, she put the picture between the pages she was on and slammed the album shut.

_'I am so screwed.'_ Rose thought; still holding the book in her shaking grip.

It wasn't polite to just open a photo album and look into it while you're at someone's house, much less when you're in the house of a multi _multi_-billionaire who was currently producing of all of your power rangers gear and zords.

"I'm sorry—I know that it's wrong to do this, but I was really curious and—." Rose began to blurt out the best apology she could at the moment.

"It's alright; curiosity is not a lamentable character." Andrew told her kindly.

Rose saw his eyes dart to the photo and his face grimace in almost a mask of pain. She had never experienced the death of someone she loved, which meant that she would not have known the true depth of his pain, but she imagined that it must have hurt a lot.

"What happened to her?" She asked; opening the album and pulling out the old photo.

"Years ago, a bit after Mack was born, she collapsed when we were hosting a gala. After we took her to the hospital, I found out that she had Acute Myeloid Leukemia…" Andrew stopped, but Rose already knew what happened.

Acute Myeloid Leukemia, or AML, was one of the many incurable diseases in the medical world. It was a disease in which there is an overproduction of abnormal white blood cells that accumulate in the bone marrow, therefore interfering with the production of normal red blood cells. Chemotherapy was used as treatment, as it was with all other cancers, and usually worked given that the treatment went correctly.

Unintentionally, she flipped to the next page in the album.

This was a picture of Mack standing with some kind of uniform for a private school or boarding school.

Rose couldn't help it; she let out a laugh.

In the picture, a 7-ish Mack was wearing this red ensemble complete with a red blazer, a white shirt, and red short shorts! That, and there was this yarmulke-like hat in the same shade of red over his curly brown hair.

Andrew looked up when he heard Rose laughing and found her looking at the album once again and found himself being sorely reminded of another time…

"_You were so cute." She said when she saw the picture in his yearbook. _

_She tore her eyes away from his primary school picture to gaze at him with kind sky-blue eyes and brushed some red-gold hair out of her face._

Andrew felt a smile tugging at his features at the picture Rose was indicating to. 

He had taken the picture the day before Mack went off to boarding school and his entire staff of caretakers had made such a fuss with him; smoothing his hair, constantly saying how much they would miss him, kissing him on the cheek and face so often he nearly ran away from them whenever he saw them coming, and hugging him to the point of suffocation.

"His boarding school had a strict dress code." He told her.

"Hmm." Rose replied, and then looked again at the picture in her hand.

How must Mack have felt to have lost his mother when he was so young?

"What happened to her after she was diagnosed?" Rose asked; holding up the picture for him to see.

A trace of pain was brought forth in his visage, but it seemed to subside quickly.

"After she was diagnosed, she underwent the treatment bravely, but…at the end of three or four months, it was no good and she—died." There was a large weight on the final word and he seemed to lose his balance for a moment.

Rose, thinking of the contents of the psychiatric book she read about losing a loved one, grabbed his arm to keep him from crashing into his bookshelf and helped him to the couch; the album still in her hand.

"When did that happen?" she asked; a niggling voice in the back of her head saying that she was getting too bold and should leave the topic where it was.

"It happened a few months after she gave birth to Mack." He hesitated to say it at first and didn't meet her eyes when he spoke to her, as she noticed.

"Maybe it was…better that Mack didn't remember or witness such a death." Rose said.

According to a child psychology book, if a child experiences a death of a parent even prior to when he or she was familiar with the concept of death, he or she suffers something close to being traumatized and once the child gets a deeper concept of death--mainly suicide or death via diseases--the child sometimes begins to wonder if it was his or her fault their parent had died.

Andrew almost laughed at her statement, but smothered it and took her hand; the one on the face of the album.

"Maybe. But I remember that once, Mack's boarding school had invited me for parents' day and I attended, and he came up to me a bit after the games and festivities were beginning and asked 'All of my friends have one mommy and one daddy. Why don't I have a mommy?' I replied that he did have a mother, but she could not be here; she was in a special place." His gaze looked so far-cast and touched with sadness.

Rose could relate; ever since she began to speak when she was a little under a year old, her parents were more like her strict teachers than anything; probably thinking that she needed to be very intelligent if she wanted to succeed in life.

"If I'm not pushing the subject too far, how did you two meet?" Rose asked; feeling his hand constrict around hers a bit tighter.

"We knew each other since we were practically babies. We were childhood sweethearts and very good friends." He told her.

"It must have been very nice…to have such a friend; especially through your schooling years." Rose commented; that surge of self-pity running through her system again.

"What about all of your friends?" Andrew asked; a bit surprised by Rose's reply.

He locked eyes with the pink ranger and saw that she, like him, had felt the pang of loneliness throughout her life many times.

"I'm sorry; is that a topic you are uncomfortable with?" He asked—he didn't think that there was anything else to say—and lightly draped his arm across her shoulders out of his old-fashioned breeding.

When a woman seemed distress, as his parents taught him, one should always comfort her with words and chaste physical contact.

Rose almost laughed; he was the one apologizing, then?

"It's alright; those years are over now." She said; lightly swiping at the corners of her eyes in case any tears came out.

"Then if I may ask, what were those years like?" he inquired.

Rose could think of a million ways to explain her school years, but there was one way to sum it all up.

"It was…more or less the same throughout my short time in public schools. I exceeded in all of my academics, teachers practically sang my praise, and I was eventually sent to a private school on scholarship." Rose replied.

But she would never forget what she went through during her days at public school.

"But during your time in public school?" Andrew asked her; seeing her cringe at a memory.

"I guess I was what you can call the stereotype for the geek. I was bullied and always sat alone during lunch, I spent recess in the library, I had the bad habit of shyness so I didn't talk to many people, I guess I gave off the illusion that I was very aloof and didn't want to speak with them. So, I had…no friends…" Rose turned away; her hand covering her right temple out of a bad memory.

_When she had enrolled in eleventh grade at the age of nine, one of the girls in her lunch class decided it would be funny to throw a piece of her lunch at 'that snobby little bitch' and it was baked potato day. Soon, others joined in and she remembered being hit at that point with a twenty ounce bottle of Gatorade. She regained consciousness in the nurse's office and then she worked as quickly and diligently as possible to graduate and get into the best college that was as far away from her old hometown as possible._

"But you have friends now." Andrew pointed out; thinking of his son and the other three rangers.

"They're acquaintances and teammates. I guess I'm still trying to move out of that shy and loner stage and I really haven't been warming up to most of them whenever they do to me. Well, that's probably the reason why they didn't invite me to go to the go-kart tracks with them today." Rose said desolately.

Or maybe they didn't think Go-Karts were her thing, but it would have been nice to go with them anyways; a rendezvous with friends is always a great alternative to spending the day inside and alone.

"I'm sure there was another reason; they would never leave you behind like that." Andrew offered.

"Maybe." Rose concurred; resting her head on his shoulder. Her hair smelled faintly of roses._  
_

_'A rose for a Rose,'_ Andrew thought; amused with his pun, however lame and overused it was.

"Friendship seems really hard to find these days; especially as you get older." Andrew thought about her words for a moment.

"You can make friends anytime; you just have to find the good people out there." He told her.

Rose sighed; turning her head to look at him.

He was a great mentor and person to talk to, but sometimes he really didn't understand. But maybe that was only natural; not very many females were like her and many others chose not to get to know her; just assuming that she was a brainiac.

"How does anyone know who is good and who isn't; there are many ways to classify a person as 'good'. Maybe it's just me; I've grown up alone and am accustomed to being alone." She spoke the truth; at least it was the truth in her opinion.

"But even a loner needs a friend. And can make one." Andrew replied; feeling her lean on him a bit more.

"Easy for you to say; maybe the whole 'friendship' issue to me seems a bit over-rated. And, after the way I treated some people who have tried to befriend me before…" She paused; what else could she say?

Rose stood up and sighed; turning back to Andrew.

"And for the whole thing with Mack and Ronny and Will and Dax, we became acquainted only because you brought us to your estate and became power rangers. That's practically the only bond we have and, judging from how they chose to exclude me today from their leisurely activities, I think they're more of my teammates than my friends. I don't know; maybe, after how I treated others years before, karma is coming around and biting me or maybe I really don't know how to make a friend and...kind of don't feel deserving to have friends."

At the last sentence, Rose fought the urge to start crying.

When she was younger, because her parents had never encouraged her to play with other children, she had no idea how to act around them and as a result, she was usually shunned throughout school. She even made imaginary friends, but her parents and her 'genius' IQ got in her way and she herself believed that having imaginary friends and basically talking to herself was foolish.

Andrew continued to gaze at the young woman before him; he alreayd knew that she was far more intelligent than her tender age let on, but her social skills underwent a terrible inhibition because she had rarely, but mostly never, spoken to other children her age or even met others who were like her. Now, she was telling him that she had honestly never had a real friend in her life and was questioning her friendship with the other members of his son's Power Rangers team.

Rose desperately wished that would say something, but he kept staring at her. Her mortification and the uncomfortable feeling within her heart grew; hadn't she always told herself to never betray any emotions; pride above all? It had been her mantra throughout public schooling.

"I—I'm sorry; you probably think this is some kind of mood swing or something and would probably like to do something else rather than listen to an eighteen year old girl who seems to have an underdeveloped personality." Rose said; turning to leave.

He was faced with two decisions. He could either let Rose walk out while continuing to feel miserable and somewhat insecure about her social skills for possibly the rest of her life, or he could try and help her in some way. He had better make his decision quickly; she was about to bolt, as judged by her muscles stiffening.

"Wait."

Rose turned and felt herself being swept into an embrace.

"That's not true, Rose." He whispered as he tightened his arms around her "Everyone deserves a friend."

Technically, it was Rose's first actual hug. Her parents had thought affection would spoil her and inhibit her in academics, the only hug she ever had at school was probably when she was hugging a library book to her chest whenever she was being bullied by the students in fear that they would tear it up or ruin it in some other way, and she and Ronny would occasionally girl-hug one another but she really didn't think that would count.

_'Everyone deserves a friend._' Without weighing in how this would affect them and everyone else, Rose felt herself stepping closer and wrapped her arms as far as she could around his upper back; just beneath his scapulas.

All of her life, she had almost never felt much warmth from anyone—not even parental affection—and now that she was experiencing it, Rose wanted to savor it, in a sense. She slightly dug her nails into the back of his linen shirt and pulled her body closer to his.

When Catharine was dying, she begged him not to be too hung up on her and to find someone else to share his happiness with.

After she died, those words were surprisingly the only ones he seemed to remember the most out of all of the things she had said to him throughout their lifetime together.

_'Don't get ahead of yourself; she is younger than Mack, even. This hug doesn't mean anything._' Andrew thought; contradict the memories of his wife pleading for him to find happiness with another.

He felt something wet on his shirt and found that she was crying for some reason.

"There's no reason to cry." He whispered; brushing some of the tears away with his fingers.

"I'm sorry?" Rose replied softly; her arms still around him.

It wasn't love, and he highly doubted that it was lust, but it was affection nonetheless; just like the kind he had felt for Catharine when they first began courtship, in a sense.

As he lightly pulled away from her, he placed a small kiss on her cheek. "You're not alone, Rose, and you don't have to be."

Rose, caught up in the moment, smiled and reached for his hand.

"I know." She said and stepped on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss.

On the lips.

Rose immediately drew back; what had she DONE?

"Uh—." she began to stutter; something she had almost never done before.

He could leave as if nothing had happened and let them both ponder what could have been, make Rose possibly feel worse about herself, and leave his promise he made Catharine on his deathbed continue to be unfulfilled; or he could take a chance and leave the rest to both of their future decisions.

He leaned down lower and covered Rose's still-shaking lips with his.

She was kissing the guy who was the red ranger's father; who was also a considerable age older than she was, but since he never told anyone his age and only Spencer knows and he never told anyone; who was the billionaire who was _funding_ the production of her ranger team's zords, technology, and traveling accommodations; her brain could list so many other reasons why kissing him was so wrong…

…But even if it is wrong, why does it feel so good?

For Rose, this was the answer to why a person does something that they probably know was wrong and their excuse, when she asked them; they always said it felt wonderful.

But that only raised new questions.

The first one was why does something considerably wrong always be like the tempting and forbidden fruit; so sweet to taste but with such a price to pay?

The second one…she had forgotten what it was along with all of the other ones that came after it; she was getting her first kiss, for crying out loud!

"Oh, wow." Rose breathed in amazement when they broke apart.

With the few temporary friends she had in middle school, they would always tell her about kissing and how magical and good it felt, but Rose didn't believe them; saying how a kiss should hypothetically feel, the exchange of body heat through the areas touching and the increase in pressure because the two kissers were pushing against one another and many other facts, and that it was just imagination that filled in the 'magical' gap.

But now, she was sorry she ever questioned her friends' stories; maybe logic and reasoning didn't explain every little thing about life.

Should he say something? Should he apologize? Should he just leave her?

In the midst of his questions, he finally noticed…the voice of Catharine, of her begging for him to find someone else after she died, the one which had tormented him for nineteen years, was gone.

When she looked into his eyes, she didn't find guilt or disappointment or smugness behind them; only the expression that he had finally taken the first step into getting over his wife's—and childhood friend's—death and was beginning to move on.

He pulled her close again and this time, she didn't hesitate to return his hold; neither of them saying any unnecessary words for the moment.

* * *

"Move, I can't see." Mack said from behind the eyelet curtain of the library's window; trying to push Will out of the way. 

They'd come back for Rose when they realized that they'd forgotten to ask her, but found that the doors were self-locking and Mack forgot his keycard to get into the mansion.

"You don't need to see what you're father's doing; dude, how does it feel to know that you're going to have a stepmother who's younger than you?" the black ranger commented jokingly.

"I doubt that will happen." Mack replied; but still wondering what life would be like if his father and Rose really did get married.

"But still, Rose and Mister Hartford; who knew?" Dax, also known as Mister king-of-stating-the-obvious, commented.

Spencer, who had joined them moments earlier, rolled his eyes; teenagers these days.

"Well, I, for one, am glad that Master Andrew has found some pleasant female company since his late wife died." Spencer said; his gaze shifting to Ronny, who nearly rolled her eyes when she saw his gaze on her.

"Keep dreaming, Spencer; it's not going to happen."

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Creative Criticism is welcomed, par usual.

Review, please.


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